


Treatise on the Effects of Time Travel and Alcohol on the Straight of Teenage Boys

by Marks



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-01
Updated: 2005-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking makes time travel possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treatise on the Effects of Time Travel and Alcohol on the Straight of Teenage Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pervy Werewolf's the Lusty Month of May, and Pornish Pixies' Fantasy Fest. Casira asked for "An ostensibly straight Sirius seducing Remus while drunk and having quiiiiite the revelation... ;)".

The funniest thing about drinking was starting out in one place and ending up in another, as though time travel was suddenly made possible.

Well. It _was_ possible, but not without aid of a Time Turner, which Sirius bloody didn't have. At least, he didn't as far as he knew, unless "Firewhisky" and "Bagshott Farm's Sparking Strawberry Surprise" were actually super-secret codewords for "Illegal Time Turners." But he doubted that.

No, it was more likely that one shot too many had landed him square in the Blackout Zone, a dimension of sound, of sight, and of mind, where mysterious head injuries and games of Nude Exploding Snap appeared as readily as a new shot glass spilling over with throat-searing liquor. Wherever he'd materialised now was all right, though; last thing he remembered, James was knotting his tie around his head and standing on his chair, declaring that the Three Broomsticks was now a biker bar and Sirius had been boisterously vocalising his agreement, but that no longer seemed to be the case.

Didn't matter, though -- where he was happened to be warm and soft and familiar...and breathing. Sirius lifted his hand, tentatively feeling his surroundings, earning a squeak and a hard shove for his troubles.

Ah. Breasts. Clothed, still, but ample nonetheless. All in all, not a terrible place to wake.

He smiled charmingly (well, Sirius thought it was charming, but he was actually quite drunk, so the result wasn't as effective as a typical Patented Sirius Black Smile), and leaned back in his chair, folding both hands behind his head.

"S'rry, Rosie," he slurred, not sounding very sorry at all. "C'n I get another shot?"

Madam Rosmerta rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Sorry, Sirius...your underage charisma can only get you so many drinks here." She fixed her gaze slightly to his right. "You'll get your friend home, won't you?"

"Of course." A sigh followed the words, and it was the sigh of the long-suffering.

Sirius (with effort) turned his head. "Moony!" he cried happily, saying the word like he hadn't seen his friend in several months, when, in fact, it had been around twenty minutes. "Where'sh Jamesh?" His words were muffled, not only because of the copious amounts of liquor now coursing through his system, but also because Sirius pitched forward, substituting Rosmerta's generous chest for Remus's decidedly more male one.

Still. Sirius didn't think it was a bad substitute, which was an odd thought as he was straight. Straight as in get-caught-by-McGonagall-in-every-corridor-with-his-hand-up-a-new-skirt straight. For Sirius wasn't only ostensibly straight, but also a bit of a slag.

"James left already." Sirius felt hands on either side of his head, trying to dislodge him from his spot, but he wouldn't budge. "He and Peter left while you had your little nap. Peter and I decided separating you two was in both of our best interests."

"Oh," replied Sirius, not really listening because he was too busy inhaling Remus's scent. His lips somehow connected with the open V of Remus's shirt, and it felt perfectly sensible to dart his tongue out to taste that spot. As soon as his tongue met skin, though, he felt his hand slip from a rather nice, muscular thigh, and then he was being pushed back and pulled up and the world was spinning and--

"I'm standing!" he reported happily, with all the pride a toddler probably feels upon taking his first steps.

"Yes, you are at that. Very good," Remus said, wrapping his arm around Sirius's waist. Obligingly, Sirius slung his own arm around Remus's shoulders and buried his face in Remus's neck. He thought he felt Remus's body go rigid at that, but that was probably because Remus was currently acting as Sirius's centre of gravity.

"Wh-- where are we...goin' now, Moooooony?" asked Sirius, laughing. "_Moooooony_. That sounds like a cow."

"We're going back to Hogwarts, you're going to sleep, and I'm going to question, yet again, why I continue to be your friend."

Sirius giggled, blindly reaching out with his free hand to poke Remus's nose. "S'cause you love me."

There was a long pause. "Yes, well. Off we go. That's right-- we can only take steps with one leg at a time."

Sirius thought the walk back to the castle went well, but then again he wasn't the one dragging a fully grown teenage boy along with him (as, of course, he was the fully grown boy in question), and neither did it bother _him_ when he would get down on all-fours at random intervals in order to eat the grass or chase small woodland creatures.

Animagi were funny drunks.

"Sirius," Remus hissed, yanking on his arm and hauling him into an upright position again. "While I'm sure the grass is tasty, you are _not currently a dog_. Furthermore, you are a rather heavy individual with a stomach full of alcohol, and if you think I want to be covered in your vomit on top of having baby-minder duty, you are _sadly_ mistaken."

Sirius hung his head, widened his eyes, and stuck out his lower lip. "'M'sorry," he said in his saddest, drunkest voice.

"And don't try that with me, either," Remus ordered, and Sirius froze, mid-pout. "I know all your tricks, Sirius Black, and don't you dare mix me up with one of your drunken..._floozies_."

The order had _done_ something to Sirius, heating his already-alcohol-warmed veins, and he stared for a long enough time that Remus spat, "_What?_"

Sirius shook his head. "Nothing." He mutely let Remus pull him along as his face found itself pressed against Remus's throat again.

"Bugger," Remus muttered just loud enough to jostle Sirius from the doze he'd fallen into.

"Wha...?" He fussily dragged the back of his hand over his eyes and tried to focus, just barely making out the outline of beds in the dim light of their dormitory. James's and Peter's snoring was quite loud.

Remus let him go and pushed, and Sirius found himself on his back on his bed, propped up by his elbows. "You're bleeding heavy, that's what. Believe it or not, it's not easy to pull someone up seven flights of stairs."

Sirius wrinkled his brow, not sure why disappointing Moony upset him, but it did, and there it was. "Next time, y'can get pissed, and I'll drag you back, 'k?"

He could see the beginnings of a smile twitch at the corners of Remus's mouth. "I'll make sure you remember that. Go to sleep, Sirius."

"No."

Remus sighed. "Sirius. It's three in the morning, I'm tired, and I just want to get some sleep. Besides, McGonagall will kill us if we're not in Transfiguration tomorrow, right?"

"S'pose," Sirius mumbled. "Y'could stay with me!"

There was another of those long pauses. "Sirius..."

"No, really, it'll be great, Moony." He tugged on Remus's arm, causing him to overbalance and wind up in a prone sprawl across Sirius's bed.

Remus flipped over and sat up so fast that Sirius immediately sat upright, too. "You're pissed."

"So?" Sirius said petulantly. "You're all...warm. And you took care of me. And-- and--" He struggled, not quite understanding why it was so important that Remus stay in his bed with him.

"...And?"

Sirius turned toward Remus and looked at him, finding Remus looking back. The gaze was so intense that Sirius found himself stunned into silence for several seconds. Finally, he swallowed hard and said quietly, "And I want you to."

He leaned forward and their lips met, only the briefest touch before Sirius realised that he was _kissing Remus_ and that revelation did more to sober him up than fifteen consecutive sobering charms. He broke away, eyes wide and apologetic.

"Oh-- oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Remus looked at him with an expression that was mixed surprise, disgust, and something else that Sirius didn't quite recognise. The fact that he couldn't put his finger on it bothered him even more than the disgust, which in itself broke him into little, Sirius-shaped pieces.

"You're drunk," Remus said finally, biting his lip.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, even though he didn't feel like he was anymore.

"Go to sleep." Remus stood abruptly and flung himself into his own bed, pulling the curtains closed so fast that Sirius barely had time to register that he'd gone.

"G'night," he said softly to no one.

It took Sirius a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning passed in a bit of a hungover blur. Sirius only grunted at breakfast when James tossed a scone at his head, too focused on the fact that Remus was decidedly not looking at him, and only speaking when spoken to directly.

Sirius had hoped that he'd dreamt the night before, but that didn't seem to be the case. Feeling like a zombie -- a zombie with a _massive_ headache -- Sirius stumbled off to Transfiguration, surprised when Remus forwent his usual seat to sit in front of Sirius instead of next to him.

That, as it turned out, was pure torture because it gave Sirius an _incredibly_ clear view of him, and Remus used the class period to run the end of his quill along his lower lip whenever he wasn't taking notes on McGonagall's lesson. Sirius's tongue had unconsciously been mimicking the pattern of the quill on his own lips, and he nearly bit the thing off when a crumpled ball of parchment hit the side of his head, dropping onto his desk.

Sirius screwed up his face and rubbed the side of his head. Why the hell was _his_ head James's chosen target for the day? Of course, _James_ didn't have a hangover, the wanker.

Sighing, he flattened the note on his desk.

 

> _Pads --
> 
> Did you know that blonde bird, Lufkin, has been staring at you the whole class? Longbottom told me she's the Ravenclaw broom!!
> 
> \-- Prongsy
> 
> _

There were also accompanying drawings, including a cartoon stag with its tongue hanging out and a moving, oversized broom sliding in and out of a Quidditch ring.

Sure enough, when Sirius glanced up, he found Loretta Lufkin looking right at him. She batted her eyelashes coyly and tossed her hair over one shoulder. Sirius scowled.

_She's a dumb bint, and she has stupid hair, too,_ Sirius scribbled back, tossing the crumpled up ball of parchment over his shoulder and back onto James's desk. That done, he resumed the all-important task of watching Remus masticate his quill, ignoring the snickering Peter and James were doing behind him.

The reply came soon enough: _You're looking at her _hair_???_

Sirius spun around to shoot James a dark glare because he couldn't deny it; that had been _exactly_ what he'd been doing. He'd noticed her hair first, but not until James pointed her out, and not until he'd noticed about fifty things about Moony, up to and including the way his shoelaces were supple brown leather and double-knotted.

He was in trouble, he knew it, and he had to talk to Remus right away.

"Moony!" Sirius yelled breathlessly, running down the hall to catch up with the other boy. "Remus, please, stop."

"Why should I?" Remus asked, quickening his pace.

"Because I need to talk to you!" Sirius stopped, head pounding too much to continue this combination marathon/discussion.

Remus stopped suddenly and turned around, glowering; Sirius shivered from the ferocity of that look. "Do you now?" he asked in a low growl, a tone Sirius couldn't remember ever hearing from him. "So, you know my little secret now." He let a bitter little laugh escape. "My other one, of course. You know, I didn't take you for the type to trample all over my feelings, Sirius."

"What do you mean, your feelings? What secr--" Sirius's jaw dropped as realisation fell upon him like a proverbial tonne of bricks. "Oh," he said softly.

"Oh," Remus said mockingly, voice just as soft. "I'll forgive you for last night because you were drunk, all right? Let's-- let's just forget it ever happened, and I'll go back to keeping my stupid feelings to myself, all right?"

Sirius knit his eyebrows together. "No," he said finally.

"No?"

"No." He took a step forward, reaching up to pull Remus's glasses from his face. Carefully, he folded them and slid them into Remus's front pocket, taking another step and putting them mere inches from one another. "I don't want to forget and, furthermore, I want to do it again. And more than that, too."

Remus swallowed visibly, his voice imploring. "I-- I can't be an experiment for you, Sirius. Just-- just walk away while you still can. While we both have our dignity."

"How can you think you're an experiment? How could you think you'd ever only be that to me?" Sirius asked, dipping his head to nuzzle Remus's throat, hand curling around the other boy's body to press against the small of his back. He parted his lips, allowing his tongue to just barely taste the salty-warm skin there, then looked up again, face serious (no pun intended). "I think I lost my straight."

Remus laughed, a sound of mixed relief and surprise. "I'm probably not going to help you find that again."

"Good." Sirius whirled them around, manoeuvring them both until he had Remus pinned against the nearest wall. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, thoughtfully examining Remus's face until he could no longer bear their proximity and the warmth radiating off Remus in waves. Taking a deep breath, he leaned in and kissed him gently, nibbling on Moony's lower lip and sliding one hand through Remus's hair at the same time as a tongue slid into his mouth, exploring languidly.

Sirius honestly couldn't remember a time where he'd ever felt so breathless, so at a loss, so...so _right_. When they broke apart, he was panting and achingly, desperately hard.

"God, _Remus_," he murmured as though they were one in the same, ready to move in for another kiss until Remus stopped him.

"Sirius, we're in a hallway."

"So?"

Remus dipped his head, smirked, and stared up at him from under thick eyelashes. "So, wouldn't you rather do this in a bed?"

Sirius groaned.

Honestly, Sirius had no earthly idea how he made it up to Gryffindor Tower, and this time he wasn't even drunk and being dragged along. If anything, he'd been more alert and awake than he could ever remember being and had been of the singular thought that he had to get upstairs and in a bed and if James or Peter were there, too, god help them because they'd be hexed and thrown out of the room before they could breathe a word.

Luckily for his roommates, he and Remus found the room empty, and Sirius found himself thrown onto his back, which was good, and then Remus straddling his thighs, which was very, _very_ good.

"Do you know how often I've thought about this?" Remus asked, running his tongue over the shell of Sirius's ear.

Sirius shook his head, running his hands up Remus's narrow hips. Oh, God, Remus really _was_ a boy. He told himself not to panic: _It's okay, you're a boy, you know how all your bits work, it'll be fine._

"Tell me," he said, voice wavering slightly.

Remus's hand curved around the back of his neck as he nipped at Sirius's jaw, his throat, his lower lip. Then, he sat back again, tugging off Sirius's tie, pulling at his buttons. "You've been in the bed next to mine for nearly six years. Six years, and for the last two, every time I've been in that bed, trying to keep quiet, I've been thinking about _you_."

"Remus, _please_," said Sirius, rocking his hips as Remus's words shot straight to his groin, not sure what he was asking for. He reached up, trying to pull Remus's clothes off, hands too shaky to undo the clasps of those blasted robes. "Please."

With a grin that was both far too wicked and far too promising, Remus quickly shed his robes, his tie, his shirt, then bent again to capture Sirius's mouth in another hard kiss, this time holding nothing back as he ravaged Sirius's mouth, using his tongue and teeth and lips to push Sirius into mindless need.

Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, hips aligned with hips, cocks hard and rubbing desperately against each other, even through the layers of fabric.

"Please," Sirius said again, once they parted for air, and Remus slid down Sirius's body and pulled his trousers and pants down and off at once, fingers curling around the base of Sirius's suddenly-bare erection.

"God, you're beautiful," breathed Remus, sounding reverent, fingers stroking almost too lightly over the sensitive skin. Then, he did something Sirius couldn't believe, dragging his tongue along the length of Sirius's cock.

Sirius bucked up, hands automatically going to Remus's hair. Yes, he'd had this done to him before, but it had never been _Remus_ doing--

"Oh, _fuck_," he shouted as Remus did it again.

And again.

And again.

Then, he stopped, and Sirius whimpered. Remus looked up, tilted his head to one side, and fixed Sirius with an expression that could only mean _Watch_, as though Sirius could do anything else.

"Oh, _God_!" Sirius moaned as Remus's lips slid over the head of his cock, then lower, lower, inch by torturous inch, until Sirius felt the tip of his cock bump the back of Remus's throat, causing him to release a deep, guttural noise from the back of his own. Watching his cock disappear over and over between Moony's lips was too much to bear, and soon he was tugging desperately on Remus's hair, urging him up, warning him.

Remus steadfastly refused to let go as Sirius's orgasm hit him, the impact so hard he nearly doubled over on himself. Shudder after shudder racked his body, and Remus stayed with him through all of it, until Sirius lay boneless, completely undone and blinking in amazement.

"Definitely lost my straight," Sirius confirmed as soon Remus flopped next to him. "Done that before, have you?"

"Yes," said Remus. "I didn't ever think you--"

"Shh," Sirius said, moving in for another kiss, while trying to pull open Remus's flies with one hand. "I know. It doesn't matter anymore."

When Sirius finally wrapped his fingers around Remus's cock, stroking him slowly, thumb running over the head, kissing Remus to match the pace he set with his hand, he didn't think he'd ever felt so complete, and when Remus gasped, "_Sirius_" into his mouth, spilling over his fingers in sticky-hot pulses, he knew it to be true.

Later, as he rested his head against Remus's chest, their bodies twined around each other, warm, comfortable, and naked, he looked up in surprise as Remus suddenly cleared his throat.

"Don't think you're getting out of carrying me home when I'm drunk, just because you've offered up your body."

Sirius snorted and punched Remus in the arm. "Only if I get to ravage you once we get back."

Remus raised his eyebrow, a look that shot heat up, down, and all around Sirius's body. "Who says you get to do the ravaging?"

Sirius punched him again.

So, as it happened, getting pissed wasn't time travel, but sometimes it was a bloody brilliant idea.


End file.
